


The Stiff, Four

by FictionISReal99



Category: Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amar and Four are a power couple fight me, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Canon Compliant, Not fourtris, Slow Burn, Tris is not in this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionISReal99/pseuds/FictionISReal99
Summary: We all know that Amar had feelings for Four during his initiation. But what if those feelings were requited? What if Amar wasn't "killed"? This story follows Amar's POV of Four's initiation and beyond as their relationship grows and they discover and fight against Erudite's plot alongside their friends.





	1. Initiation, Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is about a pairing that I feel is too often overlooked: Amar/Four. We learn in Allegiant that Amar had feelings for Four during his initiation. I think that they would be really good together, so I decided to write this. This story is an AU, where Amar is not killed for being divergent and he and Four eventually get together, but it will be a relatively slow burn; after all, they must get through initiation, and Four must come to terms with his sexuality. The story is in Amar’s POV, and it starts at the beginning of Four’s initiation. The first few chapters of the story follow Veronica Roth’s Four: A Divergent Collection very closely, and most of the dialogue is taken from the “The Transfer” and “The Initiate”. After initiation ends, though, the story will become more original. The overarching plot about Erudite's coup will still be a main point, though. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent characters and anything that you recognize, including dialogue, is not mine.

Another year, another choosing day. As an instructor, I am required to attend in order to get a glimpse of the initiates I will be training. I never really pay a lot of attention at the Choosing, except to learn the Dauntless initiates’ names. I take a lot of pride in my work, creating the best new Dauntless members that I possibly can.

  
The blur turns around and looks at me, clutching his nose. “Finesse is for Erudite showoffs. He made it on the train, Amar, that’s what counts,” Tori says pointedly, from beside me. Huh. She must know him somehow. She’s not usually one to defend people.  
“He’s supposed to be in the other car, though. With the other initiates,” I say. I look the boy over again, sizing him up. He’s tall, with caramel-colored skin and unusual blue eyes. Handsome. He has a determined look on his face, perpetually, as if it’s characteristic. That’s unusual for an Abnegation kid. Still looking at him, I say, “If he’s friends with you, I guess it’s okay. What’s your name, Stiff?” I use the typical nickname we have for those from Abnegation. I don’t use it scathingly, however.

  
The Stiff hesitates, like he doesn’t want me to know his name. Odd. “You can call me ‘Stiff’ for all I care,” he snaps. Tori looks at him a little weird but doesn’t offer any more information. Then, he just turns towards the door, not looking at either of us. He stands there at the door for a while, just looking out at the city outside, thinking. Suddenly, he walks to the other side of the train, and sits down without looking at anyone.  
Okay, this kid is really weird. He doesn’t act like most Stiffs do, with their quiet eagerness to please people. It should be interesting to train him, assuming he makes it that far. Normally I would talk to some friends and acquaintances on the (admittedly long) train ride back to the compound, but I can’t get the Stiff out of my head. I look over at him again. He’s still sitting there, staring into space. God, I wish I knew what was going through his head. I’ve always been one to try to figure people out.

  
Okay, that’s not exactly true. I only try to figure out the people that I’m attracted to. Everybody at Dauntless knows that I’m attracted to men. It’s not really a big deal there, and I’m not the only one. But it would be extremely inappropriate for me to be attracted to one of my initiates. I would be accused of giving him unfair treatment, not to mention that I’m three years older than him. I have to stomp out this attraction to him before it goes any further. I have to, for both of us.

  
I shake off these thoughts as we near the Dauntless compound. The truth is, this boy has very little chance of making it through initiation. Stiffs are taught to be nonviolent and meek from the second they’re born. I don’t want him to fail, but that’s just how it is. I put on my usual kind face, full of bravado, and walk over to him.

  
I nudge him with my foot and say, “Get up, Stiff. It’s almost time to jump.” He looks up at me with those peculiar (but beautiful) blue eyes. My stomach swoops a little bit. God, what is wrong with me?

  
“Jump?” He asks, a little nervously.

  
“Yeah. This train stops for no one.” I chuckle a little bit. To my surprise, he stands up, determined. He may look weak now, but I can tell that he sure as hell isn’t. I can see a certain strength in him. I notice that his hand is wrapped in a cloth that’s soaked through with blood. He must have cut himself too deep with the knife at the ceremony. That’s not something that happens often.

  
Tori makes sure that everyone lets him off the train first so that he doesn’t get trampled on the way out. He doesn’t appreciate the favor, but he goes along with it anyway. Tori seems to have taken a personal interest in this boy. I’ll have to ask her about it later. He looks terrified, but then that determined look comes back. He jumps as hard as he can. He’s a natural. Huh. Maybe I misjudged him. Why does that thought give me so much hope?

  
“Damn. I was hoping we would get to scrape some Stiff pancake off the pavement later,” my friend Gus says after we’ve jumped onto the roof. This makes me angry for some reason. I elbow him in the ribs and tell him to shut up. He does, because he knows what’s good for him. It’s not often that I get firm with people, especially my friends. But when I do, I mean it.

  
I shake off the annoyance and put on my obnoxious smile. This is a happy day, after all. It’s my job as instructor to welcome the initiates. After I’ve stepped up onto the roof, I yell, “Welcome to Dauntless! Where you either face your fears and try not to die in the process, or you leave a coward. We’ve got a record low of faction transfers this year, unsurprisingly.” The Dauntless members around me yell, like they always do. “The only way to get into the Dauntless compound from this rooftop is to jump off this ledge,” I shout again. To be funny, I tilt myself back and act like I’m about to fall. I like to make people laugh, just to add a little bit of light into the often dark and brutal place that I call home. “As usual, I offer the opportunity to go first to our initiates, Dauntless-born or not.” I survey all of the initiates, waiting for one of them to step up. Of course, it’s my obnoxious young friend, Zeke. He misjudges his jump and basically tumbles down into the compound, yelling the whole way. Typical Zeke. That makes everybody laugh, including me. After he goes, the other initiates line up and I cue each of them to go at thirty-second intervals.

  
The Stiff is the last initiate to jump. It’s obvious that I’ll be seeing heights in his fear landscape tonight. I watch him as he’s about to jump off. There’s that determination again, overpowering his fear. The light from the setting sun hits him in such a way that makes his skin glow and shadows his features. My stomach swoops again. I mentally slap myself.

  
I jump not long after him and walk up to the initiates to show them the ropes. I motion for all of the initiates to come closer to me, and begin my speech, “My name is Amar. I’m your initiation instructor,” I say. “I grew up here, and three years ago, I passed initiation with flying colors, which means that I get to be in charge of the newcomers for as long as I want. Lucky you,” I grin. “Dauntless-borns and transfers do most physical training separately, so that the Dauntless-borns don’t break the transfers in half right away. But we’re trying something different this year. The Dauntless leaders and I want to see if knowing your fears before you begin training will better prepare you for the rest of initiation. So, before we even let you into the dining hall to have dinner, we’re going to do some self-discovery. Follow me.”

  
Actually, I have no idea why we’re doing the fear landscapes first this year, but I’m not really opposed to the idea. As we walk towards the fear landscape room, Zeke decides to pipe up again.

  
“What if I don’t want to discover myself?” he asks. I just give him a look and he quiets. I have to put up a stern front for the initiates, and I can’t let him think that I’ll give him special treatment just because we’re friends.

  
Once we reach the fear landscape room, I busy myself getting the machine ready, and say, “This is the fear landscape room. A fear landscape is a simulation in which you confront your worst fears. “

  
The sole Erudite transfer starts asking questions, just like Erudites do. “How is that possible? You don’t know our worst fears,” he asks.  
“Eric, right?” I say. “You’re correct, I don’t know your worst fears, but the serum I am going to inject you with will stimulate the parts of your brain that process fear, and you will come up with the simulation obstacles yourself,” I explain. Most instructors wouldn’t, but I’m kinder than most. Still, this Eric kid bothers me for some reason. He can’t go around asking questions all the time, either.

  
“Allow me to satisfy your Erudite curiosity,” I say. “You get to go first.”

  
“But— “he protests.

  
“But. I am your initiation instructor, and it’s in your best interest to do as I say,” I say. Eric stares back at me for a second and then takes forever and a day to take his jacket off. This one is definitely going to be a problem. I don’t deal with insubordination well. I inject him with the serum as un-gently as I can and start the simulation. To my irritation, he does well. He handles each fear by controlling his heart rate, never going into a full panic. He never even moves or makes a noise. He’s going to do well here. I dismiss him and move on.

  
The fears of all of the initiates start to get repetitive, as usual. I usually don’t even remember people’s individual fears after a while. I do take note of how well they handle them, however. Some do very bad and some are passable, but none seem to do as well as Eric. Figures.

  
For some reason, I get the feeling that the Stiff’s fears are going to be different from the rest, more horrifying. It would take a lot to make a Stiff leave their own for another faction. I want him to have some privacy in facing his demons, so I intend to make him go last.  
After the rest of the initiates have gone, I say to him, “Just you and me, Stiff. Come on, let’s get this over with.” He walks into the room, and there’s that determined look again. I inject the syringe as gently as I can.

  
I was right, he’s afraid of heights. We’re transported back to the ledge that the initiates had to jump off of, but this time, there’s no hole to fall through, just rock-hard pavement. He faces this fear in an unusual way. I see his heart rate skyrocket on the monitor, but not long after that, he simply jumps off of the ledge that he was standing on. Not many people do things that would kill them in real life in order to get through a simulation. He’s pretty hardcore. His second fear is confinement. I can tell he’s terrified, what with the way he struggles to breathe, but he doesn’t scream. He keeps slamming his body against the walls, desperately trying to get out. This can’t be just a fear. It has to be a memory. But why would a Stiff have memories about being locked in a confined space? It seems like he’s forgotten that he can alter the simulation to help himself overcome a fear. I can’t bear to watch him struggle anymore. I know what it’s like to experience things that terrified you in reality, even if it’s just a simulation. So, I yell, “Think it through, Stiff!” That seems to work. He gets himself out not long after that.

  
Why am I paying so much attention to his fears? I mentally kick myself. I absolutely cannot let my attraction to this boy grow. I don’t even know his name, for God’s sake. I shake my head just in time to see his third fear. It looks like he must shoot a woman. Huh. I wonder what that’s all about. Does he know her? Is this one a memory too? This fear is very unusual, unlike heights and confinement. Does he have a fear of committing violence? If so, he’s going to have a hard time here. Sometimes in Dauntless we’re given orders to do things that we don’t agree with, but we have to do them anyway.  
His fourth fear makes me want to vomit. We’re transported to what I assume to be his former home in Abnegation. A man in gray walks toward the Stiff, saying, “This is for your own good, Tobias,” as he walks toward the boy. With a start, I notice that the man is the head of the City Council, Marcus Eaton. He brandishes a belt that he uses to whip Tobias with all his might. Simulation -Marcus screams, “I will not have self-indulgent behavior in my house! I did not raise my son to be a liar!” Tobias screams in pain as the belt hits him over and over again. I am forced to watch this horrific scene until the Stiff, I mean, Tobias forces himself to calm down. I guess now I have my answer as to why he left Abnegation, and why he didn’t want to tell me his name. His father is a monster. The leader of our city is a monster.

  
The simulation fades, and I am again looking at the characteristic bare stretch of wall in the fear landscape room. He only has four fears? “That’s it?” I say, shocked. “That’s all there is? God, Stiff.” I really did underestimate him. Four fears. That’s absolutely unheard of, and from a Stiff, no less. He’s still shaking, shaken by the all-too-recent memory of his abusive father. I feel sorry for him, having to carry the burden of all of those secrets. But I’m also impressed. Not only does he have by far the least amount of fears, he faced each of them in a very short amount of time.  
I walk over to him and offer him a hand to help him up. I can’t help but have a look of pity for him. I thought that my childhood was hard, what with my parents being hit by a train, and my grandparents taking the Jump as a congratulations for becoming a full member of Dauntless. But looking at the Stiff, I realize that things could have been much, much worse. At least I was loved, and accepted for who I was. This only makes me respect him more.  
As his hand touches mine, I feel a surge of electricity shoot up my arm. I ignore it.

  
He avoids my gaze, most likely in shame. I remember reading somewhere that abuse victims tend to be ashamed; they feel as if there was something else they could have done to stop it, or that they deserved it in the first place. He needs to understand that he value, and that the abuse he suffered wasn’t his fault. He has four fears, and he faced each of them in less than two minutes each, only losing his composure with the last one. I want to let to let him know this, so I say, “We should come up with another name for you. Something stronger than ‘Stiff’. Like ‘Blade’ or ‘Killer’ or something.” After I say that he does look at me, and I smile at him. I can’t really keep all of the pity out of it, though. “I wouldn’t want to tell people my name either,” I say by way of explanation, “Come on, let’s get some food.”

  
After we reach the dining hall, I decide to give him a leg up. He’s going to need a lot of help in being treated like an equal here. Not to mention the fact that he has a lot of personal secrets to hide. An idea occurs to me, and I know he’ll be just fine. We walk over to the table and I address the initiates: “You all made it out alive. Congratulations. You made it through the first day of initiation, with varying degrees of success,” I say. Then I look pointedly at Eric. I want to watch that smug smile fall from his face as I say what I have to say next. I point at the Stiff, Tobias. “None of you did as well as Four over here, though.” To seal the deal, I call over to Tori, who is sitting a few tables over. “Hey, Tori! You ever hear of anyone having only four fears in their fear landscape?”

  
“Last I heard, the record was seven or eight. Why?” Tori calls back.

  
I grin. “I’ve got a transfer over here with only four fears,” I say. All of the initiates look shocked. Some incredulous, some awed. Tori points over at Four as a question, and I nod, grinning.

  
“That’s gotta be a new record,” Tori says, impressed.

  
I look at Four and say, “Well done.” He gives me a small smile. Now my job is done. All he has to do is accept the name.  
As I’m walking towards my usual table, I hear Four say to Eric, “My name is Four. Call me ‘Stiff’ again, and you and I will have a problem.” I smile to myself.

  
Once I sit down, Tori gives me a strange look. “What?” I say, trying to be evasive. But she just shakes her head and smiles. “You deserve to be happy, Amar, don’t fight your feelings. Everyone else will get over it, eventually,” she says with a knowing look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say.  
Just then, the others join us, and the subject is dropped. For now. God, I really am in over my head.


	2. Initiation, Part 2: Dare

The first few weeks of initiation come and go relatively smoothly. Having so few initiates, I’m able to give each one of them individual attention in the areas that they are weaker in. I’m not worried about any of them failing. Despite myself, I can’t help but pay attention to Four. He really is an enigma. I really did underestimate him, as did everybody else. He has quickly mastered everything I have taught the transfers in stage one. Shooting, knife throwing, endurance exercises, fighting skills, everything. And despite his fear of utilizing violence, he has won all of his fights so far. To do so, he is calculative. He uses only the amount of force that he needs to win. I have noticed that he is very good at reading people, assessing their strengths and weaknesses in order to figure out how to beat them.

I can’t help but be worried about him, though. I’ve seen enough people crack under the pressures of Dauntless to know that Four is wound too tight. He’s obsessive. He hasn’t made any friends at all. He sits alone at every meal, eating quickly so that he can return to the training room or the fear landscape room. He is a bit of a masochist like that. He trains until his knuckles look like hamburger meat and he can barely stand for exhaustion. He willingly goes through his fear landscape, time and time again in order to master his fears, as if he’s afraid that they will beat him if he doesn’t. I’ll admit that these things are kind of badass, but I can tell that he is sinking further and further into the self-loathing darkness that his father beat into him.

Despite all of his talents, he remains humble, never showing any signs that he is proud of his remarkable achievements. He also looks guilty any time he has to hit someone. This worries me, because it makes him stand out, and not in a good way. A Dauntless initiate that’s as good as he is should know it. Though personally I find his attitude refreshing, people who stand out usually end up dead in one way or another. That’s why I put on a mask of bravado and charm, when really, I have a dark side. The truth is, I relate to Four in more ways than one. I have to fight self-loathing as well. Instead of dealing with it, I just hide it. I’m friends with pretty much everyone, but I don’t let anyone too close. I don’t want Four to end up with no one to turn to, so I have decided to help him make some friends; friends that can show him that life isn’t all that bad.

I keep telling myself that I’m just doing it out of duty as his instructor, but I know that’s bullshit. I want to get to know Four better. Selfishly, I want him to be my friend, more than my friend. I feel like he’s the first person I’ve ever met that can truly understand me, understand all the different parts of me, and I think that I can do the same for him. I just can’t get too close to him while he’s still an initiate.

I shake off all these thoughts as I reach the training room, where I know Four is. I checked the fear landscape room first, and since he wasn’t there, the only other place he would be is here. The pungent smell of sweat mixed with blood hits my nose. As I expected, Four is there, swinging away at the punching bag like it’s trying to kill him. He is soaked with sweat and breathing heavily. God, he looks sexy.

I decide that that’s a good time to speak up. Letting my thoughts wander too far in that direction is never a good idea. “So, I guess you saw the boards, and realized that you’re up against Eric tomorrow. Or else you would be in the fear landscape room instead of in here,” I say conversationally, leaning against the doorframe.

“I come in here, too,” he replies, turning towards me. I expected him to be startled, but he’s not.

“Yeah, I know.” I laugh. I always laugh a lot whenever I talk to him. For some reason he makes me happy, even when he’s not happy. “See, I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what your deal is, so I’ve been asking around,” I explain to him. I don’t want to tell him that I haven’t been asking around at all. He might think that it’s a little creepy that I’ve been watching him so much. “Turns out you’re in here every morning and in the fear landscape room every night. You never spend any time with the other initiates. You’re always exhausted and you sleep like a corpse.” I want to let him know that excelling in initiation only gets one so far when joining a faction. Having Leadership watch you for strange behavior is very dangerous, and I don’t want that to happen to him.

“Joining a faction is about more than getting through initiation, you know,” I vocalize my thoughts. “For most of the Dauntless, they meet their best friends during initiation, their girlfriends, boyfriends, whatever. Enemies, too. But you seem determined not to have any of those things.”

The only boyfriend I’ve ever had was during initiation. I use the word ‘boyfriend’ loosely. Gus and I fooled around a couple of times, but he was just experimenting. It didn’t ruin our friendship, but I’ve been wary of relationships since then. Even more so since I lost my grandparents. Until now. I’ve finally admitted to myself that I want to be in a relationship with Four. Just my luck that I want someone that I not only can’t have (for multiple reasons), but that almost certainly wouldn’t want me back.

Four shrugs. “I’m used to being alone,” he says. That statement hits me with a pang. Has he never had any friends? Did his father tell him that he doesn’t deserve to have friends?

“Well, I feel like you’re about to snap, and I don’t really want to be there when it happens,” I say. I don’t tell him why. “Come on. A bunch of us are going to play a game tonight. A Dauntless game.” My best friend, Lauren, told me about it this morning. I asked her to invite Zeke and Shauna, two Dauntless-born initiates that I know well. I think that they would be good friends for Four. Zeke has a childlike spirit and notorious sense of humor, and Shauna is snarky but very understanding when she wants to be.

He hesitates, picking at the tape on his knuckles. “I’m offering you some Dauntless status for no particular reason other than that I feel bad for you. Don’t be stupid and miss this opportunity,” I push. I’ve learned that he needs to be pushed in order to do things.

“Fine,” he says. “What’s the game?” I grin at him. I can’t help but be excited.  
…

On the train, a very drunk Lauren explains the rules of the game: Dare. She keeps leaning out the door and then quickly swinging herself back in, giggling like a little kid. I’ve played Dare a few times before. It’s pretty fun, albeit obnoxious.

“How do we win?” Gus says from next to me. He’s leaning against me comfortably. He still gets kind of touchy-feely when he’s drunk. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I stopped having feelings for him a long time ago. I was never in love with him or anything. It was just that having someone who wanted to touch me, someone who cared, was nice.

“You win by not being a little pansycake,” Lauren says. “And, hey, new rule, you also win by not asking dumb questions.” She really is drunk.

Lauren dares me first, tossing the flask to me. I take a swig. Wow, it’s strong. No wonder she’s already sloshed. She dares me to go into the Erudite library and cause a scene. I accept the dare gladly. This could be pretty funny.

While we ride, I talk and laugh with my friends. At some point, I glance over at Four. He’s talking to Zeke and Shauna, just like I wanted. Though he still looks very uncomfortable and uptight. For some reason, Shauna gestures to her breasts. Four looks away and then blushes. My heart sinks. Why would he blush unless he was attracted to breasts? Why am I still holding out hope that he’s attracted to men? I mentally kick myself.

I take another swig of the liquor and dramatically jump out of the train. We’re at the closest stop to Erudite. Everyone else follows me out.

I see Four jump, more smoothly this time, and walk over to him. Zeke is standing next to him. “Look at you, getting your train legs,” I jokingly say to Four. “Here, have a sip. You look like you need it.” He takes the flask I offer him without hesitation and takes a big gulp. He winces a little, but not nearly as much as one would expect from a first-timer. “Good job,” I say, punching him lightly on the shoulder. My belly swoops as my hand makes contact with him, but I ignore it. Then I walk over to Zeke and put him in in a light headlock. “I see you’ve met my young friend Ezekiel,” I say. Zeke pushes me off of him saying, “Just because my mom calls me that doesn’t mean you have to.” He really hates his full name. He thinks it makes him sound like a Stiff. That’s why I tease him with it so much.

“Amar’s grandparents were friends with my parents,” Zeke says in response to Four’s confused look.

“Were?” Four says.

“Well, my dad’s dead, and so are the grandparents,” Zeke replies, shrugging.

“What about your parents?” Four says to me. Even though the subject is a bit depressing, I’m glad for the opportunity to tell Four a little more about myself. I’m also glad that he’s already so comfortable with making friends. Alcohol can really help with that.

I shrug a little. “Died when I was young. Train accident. Very sad,” I say nonchalantly. I grin at him to hide the pain that I feel when I talk about this. “And my grandparents took the jump after I became an official member of Dauntless.”

“The jump?” Four seems confused. Coming from Abnegation, he wouldn’t know anything about the death rituals here at Dauntless. From what I understand, people in Abnegation can live to be as old as eighty or ninety, dying of natural causes. At Dauntless it’s not like that. At that thought, I feel the familiar twinge of anger at the system, but I try not to show it.

“Oh, don’t tell him while I’m here. I don’t want to see the look on his face,” Zeke pleads. The jump is something that everyone at Dauntless accepts but aren’t too happy about. Too many people have had to watch their loved ones die.

“Elderly dauntless sometimes take a flying leap into the unknown of the chasm when they hit a certain age. It’s that or be factionless,” I say to Four, ignoring Zeke. I make a careening gesture with my hands. “And my grandpa was really sick. Cancer. Grandma didn’t care to go on without him.” In that moment, I want Four to see me, the real me, flaws, hardness, bitterness and all. For a flashing moment I let him see what’s beneath the nonchalance and humor.

He looks at me like he does know, like he does see the real me. It should scare me, but it doesn’t. I was right about him being the only one that’s able to understand. That thought gives me a lot of hope. Maybe if we can’t be together, we can be close friends.

“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely.

“At least this way, I got to say my good-byes. Most of the time death just comes whether you’ve said good-bye or not,” I say gravely. Don’t I know it. Death just came for my parents, and for Mr. Pedrad, and no one got to say good-bye.

I realize that I can’t stand to think about this anymore, so I grin to shake the thoughts off, and run to catch up with Lauren and Gus and the rest of the group. That’s how I deal with my problems. I ignore them, and when that doesn’t work, I drown them in alcohol and meaningless sex.

To fulfill my dare, I run into the Erudite library and moon everybody. The guards start to chase all of us, but the Erudite don’t run a lot, so they lose us after a couple of blocks. Everybody laughs the whole way, including Four. He has a beautiful laugh, sincere. It’s the kind of laugh that’s made even more special by the fact that it doesn’t occur a lot. He looks so carefree, for once, glowing in the light of the setting sun.

Once we reach an old alleyway, I dare Shauna to scale to sculpture in front of the Upper Levels building. I find myself just being happy throughout the game. That’s something I haven’t felt for a long time. I hope that the mindless fun is doing the same thing for Four.

Four is the last person to be dared, and by none other than Gus. I haven’t confided my feelings for Four in anyone, but Tori obviously suspects something, and Gus has always been pretty good at reading me. He may not know who it is that I have feelings for, but he knows that I have it bad for someone.

Gus dares Four to get a tattoo. I find myself thinking that this dare isn’t fair, because its effects are permanent. It’s not like flashing your ass at a bunch of Noses or climbing a sculpture. But Four just shrugs and accepts the challenge. He wants to fit in, after all. And refusing would prove to everyone that he really is a Stiff, which is exactly what this dare is about.

It took a little charm to convince Tori to do a tattoo at 1:00 in the morning, but we did it. Four decides to get a patch of flames tattooed on his ribs. That’s a bit badass because it’s so painful to get a tattoo on a place with so little fat. A shiver runs through me as he takes his shirt off. Damn, he has a toned torso and biceps. That’s kind of surprising considering how little time he’s spent here, but less so considering how hard he pushes himself.

I feel a pang of sadness and anger when I see the healing lashes on his back. Tori enquires about them, and Four just kind of stops, not knowing what to say.

“He’s an initiate,” I say, scrambling for an excuse to defend him. No one should have to know about his past unless he wants them to. “They’re all cut and bruised at this point. You should see them all limping around together. It’s sad.” The excuse is weak, but it works.

“You should see the one on my knee. It’s the sickest blue color,” Zeke says excitedly, rolling up his pant leg to show everyone. Good old Zeke. He’s oblivious, but he always seems to know what to do to fix a situation. The other Dauntless in the room begin to show everyone their nasty cuts and bruises. They wear them with great pride. Tori doesn’t seem convinced, but she drops it. For now. She shoots me a look that says that we’ll be talking about this later. I can’t help but continue to look at the scars on his back, wondering what could have possibly gotten his father so angry as to rip his son’s back to shreds.

Shaking off the thoughts, I toss Four the flask, and Tori turns on the tattoo needle. Four seems to enjoy the pain of getting the tattoo, which is a little disturbing, but also kind of hot. He makes small gasps of pleasure and has an expression of pained excitement. I just hope everybody else is too drunk to notice how turned on I am.

After the tattoo is done, we all stumble out of the tattoo parlor. I see Zeke sling an arm around Four and say, “I think you’re Dauntless now.” I smile. I know they’ll be great friends.

I stumble home and kind of fall onto my bed. I lay there for a while, thinking about just how screwed I am. I can’t get the image of Four enjoying the pain of the tattoo needle out of my head. I’m also not looking forward to the conversation with Tori that I know is coming.


	3. Initiation, Part 3

Later that morning I find myself standing in the training room with a bit of a hangover. I always get a little mean and impatient when I’m hung over. This is compounded this morning by the fact that Four is already ten minutes late. This fight is the only thing we have to do today, and I’m really looking forward to going back to bed. Just as I’m checking my watch again, the door bangs open (ouch), and Four runs in looking like absolute hell. His hair is sticking up all over the place, his eyes are bloodshot, and his shoes are untied. 

I look at him sternly. “Nice of you to join us. Tie your shoes, and don’t waste any more of my time,” I say. I really am grouchy today. I also can’t let him think that he’s gonna get special treatment just because we hung out yesterday. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone. 

As soon as Four is done tying his shoes, I step away, and Eric doesn’t waste any time in starting the fight. He hits Four in the jaw and then kicks him in the ribs, right where Four was just tattooed. Damn, that has to hurt. But Four puts up his defenses, just like he knows to do. Eric leaves holes in his defense, and Four takes the opportunity to uppercut him in the stomach. Huh. Looks like he’s the type to go down swinging. Eric smacks Four in the ear, and Four barely catches himself before he falls. He’s holding up a lot better than most would in his situation, but it looks like he might actually lose this one; he’s in way too much pain. But just then, Eric begins to taunt Four. Not a smart move. Eric gets in one more good hit, still taunting Four, and Four just sits there for a moment before getting riled up and beating the shit out of Eric. At some point, a tooth flies out of Eric’s mouth. This is uncharacteristic of Four. Normally, he doesn’t utilize a lot of violence, scared of his own strength. He looks as if he’s in some kind of trance, not even aware of what he’s doing. Eric is yelling, no longer able to fight back. He’s covered in his own blood and can barely move. The initiates watching the fight are cheering and yelling. They, like all Dauntless, love a good, bloody show. And they hate Eric. He beat all of them mercilessly, so it must be nice to watch the same happen to him. I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach, even though Four has proved himself, and that shithead Eric deserves it. He lost to his arrogance today.  
Suddenly, Four snaps out of whatever trance he’s in and looks down at Eric in horror, like he can’t believe what he just did. He meets Eric’s eyes for a moment, and then turns and rushes out of the room without looking at anyone. The other initiates look confused at this turn of events. As far as they are concerned, Four should be proud of beating Eric, of becoming the only undefeated initiate in the last five years. But they don’t know about, can’t possibly know about the horrors of his past, and of the deep-rooted fear that he holds of the cycle repeating itself. Standing there, having witnessed what I just did, I can’t help but wonder if it is. I don’t really know what to think at this point. Normally, Four is kind, if not exactly nice, and wary of utilizing violence. He does keep to himself a lot, though.

I sling one of Eric’s arms over my shoulder and all but carry him to the infirmary. He’s gasping and whimpering the whole way there. But he should recover just fine. Besides the tooth thing, Four really only did superficial damage. Eric wasn’t even knocked out. Not that I really give a shit what happens to his sorry ass, anyway. He’s one of those Erudite-Dauntless transfers that almost immediately becomes cruel and power-hungry. Everyone should be wary of him.   
…  
After the fight, the other initiates scatter, taking advantage of their rare free time. But Four is nowhere to be found. Instead of going back to bed like I had originally intended to, I decide to go visit Tori at work. I might as well just face the talk I know is coming. Besides, my head is full of contradictory thoughts, and Tori has always been able to help me with things like this. She’s been like an older sister to me for a long time. I can talk to her about things that I couldn’t even imagine talking to Lauren or Gus about. But like me, she never lets anyone too close, and she has a lot of secrets. I don’t think anyone can say that they truly know her. 

As I walk into the tattoo parlor, I notice that it’s unusually empty. There are no customers in there, which is good for me. Tori sits at her work desk, sketching. Bud isn’t there, which is a little weird. I’m pretty sure that that guy would marry this place if he were allowed to. 

“Hey Tori,” I grin, walking up to her. 

She looks up. “Done for the day already? At what, 9:00 am?” she teases.

“I’m a little hung over. I figured I’d just give the initiates the rest of the day off,” I say, pulling up a chair.

“I figured. So, what brings you here?” Tori asks. “Want another tattoo?”

“Nah,” I say. “Just wanted to talk.”

“So, you’re ready to talk about last night?” she asks.

“Yeah. I knew you weren’t just going to let that go.”

“Look. I know Four’s real name, and what faction he came from. I administered his aptitude test,” Tori says, confirming my suspicions. She started volunteering for the aptitude tests after her brother died. And the non-Abnegation volunteers administer the test to the Abnegation kids. “It doesn’t take a lot to connect the dots.” 

“So, I guess after what you saw last night, you’ve reached the conclusion that at least some of those articles that the Erudite are publishing have some truth to them,” I sigh. 

“Yeah,” she says sadly. “The moment I met him I knew something was off about him. He was closed off, but I could tell that there was some kind of fire in him. He didn’t really seem like all of the other Stiffs did. It seemed like he was desperate to escape.”

“Really?” I say. I’m grateful for any opportunity to learn more about him. He’s still so much of a mystery to me. “What was his result?” I’ve been pretty curious about that. 

“You know I’m not going to tell you that,” she says. “If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” is sigh. “I’m just gonna go ahead and assume that you’ve figured out how I feel about him.”

“Yeah,” she smirks. “I know you and what you’re like when you like someone. Even if it doesn’t happen very often.”

“I don’t know about all this, Tori. I mean, I don’t need anybody to tell me that my feelings are inappropriate, or that he probably isn’t into guys. Part of me wants to stop feeling this way, but I just can’t figure him out.” I sigh. 

“Honestly, I can’t either,” she replies. “But I can tell that he’s having trouble adjusting to life here. I don’t blame him after everything he’s been through. And you can’t change how you feel, Amar. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

“I guess. It doesn’t make things any easier, though,” I say. “Anyway, he’s just gone missing after beating the crap out of Eric. He seemed like he felt really guilty about it. Like he was afraid that he was becoming like his father.”

“Do you think that he is?” Tori asks. “Becoming like his father, I mean.”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t enjoyed hitting anyone until now, and Eric is a special case. He’s actually been doing everything that he can to use just as much force as necessary to win, And I’m actually pretty impressed with him for beating someone so ruthless. He’s also pretty empathetic, when it counts. I’m just kinda worried about him. He seems really depressed, insecure. He’s obsessive, too.”

“Well, wouldn’t you be if your father had beat the shit out of you on a regular basis?”

“Well, yeah,” I say. “I’m just worried that he might be another one of those people who snaps and kills themselves.”

“I don’t think he will be. He’s tough. And besides, it seems like if he wanted to truly hurt himself, he would have done so by now,” Tori says logically. That makes sense. Why would he have made such a big effort to survive if he was just gonna kill himself?

“You just have to make sure he knows that there are people who are there for him, and he’ll be fine,” Tori says. 

“I hope so,” I say.   
…  
Two days after begins stage two: emotional training. This is my least favorite part about being an initiation instructor. The initiates usually walk around like zombies throughout this stage, lost in the dark recesses of their minds. There is little, if anything, that I can do to help them through it. I wish it weren’t that way, but it is. 

After setting up all of the equipment, I open the door of the simulation room and call Four inside. He’s going first today as he’s currently ranked first in the initiation class. Both yesterday and today he has sat with Zeke and Shauna at breakfast. I’m happy that he’s finally found some friends. But yesterday I saw him walk into the cafeteria with Shauna’s arm around him, laughing. Intellectually, I know that Shauna has been in love with Zeke for years. But try telling that to the jealous monster in my chest. 

He walks into the room and looks around. “A simulation?” he asks, looking at the computer. Huh. He must know a thing or two about computers, somehow or other. 

“The less you know, the better,” I say. “Sit down.” I just want to get this over with. I’m not looking forward to seeing him suffer. 

I plunge the syringe into his neck and say, “Let’s see which of your four fears comes up first. You know, I’m getting kind of bored with them. You might try and show me something new.” I say this lightheartedly, just joking with him like I always do. 

“I’ll work on it,” he says, joking back, as the simulation takes him under. 

The fear that the simulation shows today is Marcus. Four’s heart rate spikes as he panics. The simulation has him trapped inside of his old house, his only option being to try to hide from simulation-Marcus. As simulation-Marcus has him cornered at the top of the stairs, choking him, Four reaches behind him and opens a door that leads into a closet. Odd. I don’t remember seeing that door there when they came up the stairs. In the simulated closet there is a window that Four doesn’t even bother to open. He just breaks the glass with his shoulder and jumps out, not caring what’s down below.   
He comes out of the simulation in a panic, shooting forwards in the chair. I look over at the little timer on the screen that shows how long he was in the simulation. Four minutes and fifty-five seconds. Impressive. 

Four is still in a panic, running his hands over his skin checking for bruises and cuts that don’t exist. I just look at him. I’ve never seen anyone get out of a simulation that fast. Much less a simulation that contained their worst fear. My best time was around six and a half minutes when I was an initiate, and that was for my most mild fear: spiders. 

Finally, he notices me staring at him. “What?” he asks in a panicked, breathless voice. 

“You were in there for five minutes,” I say, thinking that to be a sufficient answer. 

“Is that long?”

“No,” I frown. Clearly, he doesn’t realize that, yet again, he’s managed to do something remarkable. “It’s very good actually.”

I can still see his heart rake spiking on the monitor. I am suddenly overcome with a rage directed at Marcus Eaton. What kind of sick bastard becomes his own son’s worst fear? What kinds of horrific things did the man do to make someone as tough and brave as Four shrink in fear at the very sight of him? At this point, I’m worried that Four is going to cause himself to faint. 

“Let me walk you back to the dormitory,” I say. He needs to lie down. And selfishly, I want to talk to him about what happened in the simulation. I think he might have the same hidden skill that I do. Since becoming an instructor, I haven’t had an initiate with it until now. If he can manipulate the simulations, he needs to be warned. Also, other people will notice if I don’t kill some time by walking him back. Drawing attention to the fact that he got out of the simulation that quickly would not be a good idea. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.” Yeah, right. 

I look at him sternly, remembering that he has to be pushed to accept help. 

“It wasn’t a request.” I open the back door of the room and he gets shakily to his feet, following me out into the hallway. 

After a few paces he flinches away from some nonexistent entity. I stop him, putting my hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. They are as blue as ever, standing out against his caramel skin and dark hair. My belly swoops. “Hey. Get it together, Four,” I say, putting a hand on his shoulder.   
He nods, then blushes, as if ashamed of his lingering fear. I want to tell him that it’s okay to be afraid, that he has nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone would be terrified in his position. I sure as hell was when I was an initiate. But the words get stuck in my throat. God, he makes me nervous. Normally guys don’t make me nervous. Then again, I usually don’t get attached.

I remember the other reason that I wanted to get a moment alone with him. “Can I ask you something?” He cringes, probably thinking that I’m going to make him feel even more ashamed about his troubled past, but I would never do that. “How did you get out of that hallway?” If he can change the simulations the way that I can, I want to know. 

“I opened a door,” Four replies.

“Was there a door behind you the whole time? Is there one in your old house?” I ask. He shakes his head, and my stomach sinks. 

“So you created one out of nowhere?”

“Yeah. Simulations are all in your head. So, my head made a door so I could get out. All I had to do was concentrate,” he says, like it’s obvious. That statement sounds all too familiar. 

“Strange,” I ponder out loud. 

“What? Why?” Four asks, starting to panic again. He must know that simulation awareness isn’t something that one should advertise. I find myself wondering how he knows that, but then I remember that his father is the most powerful man in the city. Marcus Eaton knows everything. 

“Most initiates can’t make something impossible happen in these simulations, because unlike in the fear landscape, they don’t recognize that they are in a simulation. And they don’t get out that fast as a result,” I explain. Four doesn’t say anything. He seems lost in thought, a memory perhaps.   
I feel the need to make a connection with him, to let him know that he’s not the only one who’s different. The poor kid is probably sick of it. “I was like you,” I tell him quietly. “I could change the simulations. I just thought I was the only one.” My own instructor, Harrison, told me to be careful. He told me that changing the simulations wasn’t a good idea. But he never told me why. I feel like this thing that we have in common has kind of bonded us in a way, but I can’t explain the feeling. 

I look at Four again. He looks like he wants to say something to me, but thinks better of it. Suddenly, I am overcome with an overwhelming desire. To touch him, to kiss him, hold him close. It’s been a long time since I have felt these things for someone, and honestly, it scares me a little. I know that I’m just setting myself up for heartbreak, but I can’t help myself. 

Four notices me looking at him with this desire and seems uncomfortable. My heart drops to the floor. Even though I knew he didn’t return my feelings, it still hurts to have that fact confirmed. So, I decide to deflect by telling him the same thing that my instructor told me. “It’s probably not something that you should brag about. The Dauntless are all about conformity, just like every other faction. It’s just not as obvious here.” He nods, like this is something that he already knew. I think of the Abnegation, with their identical clothing, houses, and even personalities. Of course he knows that standing out isn’t something that’s praised. 

“It’s probably just a fluke,” he says, like he’s trying to convince me that he isn’t different after all. I realize with a sharp pang that he doesn’t trust me not to tell Leadership about this. Of course I won’t turn him in. “I couldn’t do that during my aptitude test. Next time I’ll probably be more normal.” God, he’s a horrible liar. 

“Right,” I say. “Well, next time, try not to do anything impossible, all right? Just face your fear in a logical way, a way that would always make sense to you whether you were aware or not.” I really don’t want to see him get hurt. Selfishly, I want to protect this boy. 

“Okay,” he says, clearly not wanting to talk about this any longer. I realize that being around him hurts, knowing that my feelings are unrequited. 

“You’re okay now, right?” I ask. “You can get back to the dorms on your own?”

He just nods, and I clap him on the shoulder, knowing that that’s the only touch he will ever accept from me. As we start down opposite ends of the hallway, I feel like I need a drink. This is going to be a long day.   
…  
Finally, the last initiate finishes, just in time for dinner. The rest of the initiates took much longer to get out of their simulations. One of the Candor transfers took just over an hour. That was annoying. At least none of the others showed any signs of awareness.

“So, how was the first day of simulations?” Lauren asks when I sit down at the table for dinner. “Any of the initiates piss themselves?”

“No,” I reply, grinning a little bit. I can’t let anyone know what’s been bugging me all day. “Just a typical day. How did the last of your initiates do in the fights?”

“Shauna actually won her fight today. She’s been losing ever since initiation started. I have no idea how she managed to improve so quickly,” Lauren says conversationally.

“Well, that good isn’t it? I mean, now she’ll have enough points to technically pass stage one. If she does well enough in stages two and three, she won’t become factionless.” I say, taking a bite of my burger. 

“Yeah, I’m actually really proud of her,” Lauren says, smiling. Neither of us want to see Shauna become factionless. She’s like a little sister to us, and Zeke would be torn apart if she had to leave. We fall into a comfortable silence for a while, just eating our meal. I look over and notice that Four seems to be having a good time, sitting and laughing with some of the Dauntless-borns. He must be feeling better from earlier. 

Somewhere around the end of the meal, a minor disturbance is caused by the arrival of two Erudite women. I notice with a start that one of them is their leader, Jeanine Matthews. They walk over to the leader’s table and sit down with Max. After a while, Max gets up and starts to walk towards me. My guts turn to ice. This can’t be good. 

“Amar, it seems that a few unusual things have transpired today during the fear simulations. These lovely ladies have called you and Four in for a special evaluation,” Max says when he reaches our table. 

“F-Four?” I stammer, fear coursing through me. “Why has he been called in?”

“Look, I don’t like them butting in to our business any more than you do,” Max whispers to me tersely. “But when Jeanine Matthews marches in and says that she needs to conduct an evaluation, I’m really in no place to ask questions.” 

“Alright,” I sigh, trying to calm my nerves. I know exactly what this is about. Jeanine isn’t supposed to have any power at all in Dauntless. Leadership always watches the simulations in order to evaluate and rank the initiates. This means that somehow, she knows about Four’s simulation results, and that means that he’s in danger. 

We walk over to the table where Four is sitting, and I beckon him over to us. “You and I have been called in for an evaluation,” I say emotionlessly. If I’m not careful, I might have a full-blown panic attack right here. 

“Evaluation?” Four repeats, confused. 

“Your fear simulation results were a little abnormal. Our Erudite friends behind us will observe another simulation to make sure that the abnormal result wasn’t an error in the simulation program. Amar will take you to the fear simulation room now,” Max says calmly. 

We leave the cafeteria and walk to the simulation room in silence. Four looks just as nervous as I feel. We both know that the leader of Erudite would never waste her time involving herself with Dauntless initiation unless something was seriously unusual. After everybody has walked into the room, I say, “I’ll go get the extra equipment so you can observe. Be right back.”

I walk to the supply room like a zombie, thinking of how royally I’ve fucked up this time. If something happens to Four, I will never forgive myself. I should have warned him before he ever got to that room, in private. I knew that he was different. Why wouldn’t those differences extend to the simulations?   
As I’m walking back into the simulation room, wheeling a bunch of spare parts, I hear Four saying, “I’m fine,” coldly to Jeanine. She must have been trying to get some information out of him about his father. She’s always looking for something to use against Abnegation, and it’s likely the two have met before.

“Of course you are,” Jeanine replies a little condescendingly. 

When Four sees me, he leans back in the chair, waiting for me to inject the serum. As I do it, I can’t help but feel like I’m in fact sending him to his death.   
Luckily, it’s not Marcus who appears in his simulation this time. It’s heights, his least intense fear. He should be more able to fake unawareness with this one. Four hesitates in the simulation for a moment, probably considering what he can do to face this fear without showing awareness. Eventually, he decides to try to climb down the side of the building that he is standing on. As he’s climbing down, he loses his footing and falls. I feel a surge of fear, and painful loss, before I remember that this isn’t real. He isn’t really dying. And he made it through without revealing that he knew it wasn’t real. I breathe a sigh of relief.   
Four wakes and lurches forward suddenly, gasping for breath, just like he did earlier today. 

“Interesting,” Jeanine says. “I never tire of seeing inside a person’s mind—every detail suggests so much.” What a bitch. I ignore her. 

“You did well,” I say to Four. “Your climbing skills are maybe a little wanting, but you still got out of the simulation quickly, just like last time.” I smile at him, trying to convey how impressive that is, and how relieved I am. He just nods, understanding the words that I can’t say aloud. 

“Well, it appears that your abnormal test result was program error. We will investigate the simulation program to find the flaw,” Jeanine says to Four. Turning to me she adds, “Now, Amar. I’d like to see one of your fear simulations, if you wouldn’t mind obliging."

I feel like I want to vomit. Panic rising, I manage to get out, “Mine? Why mine?”

“Our information suggests that you were not alarmed by Tobias’ abnormal result—that you were quite familiar with it, in fact. So I would like to see if that familiarity comes from experience.”

“Your information,” I say. “Information from where?” How could anyone have heard our conversation in a deserted hallway? By her reactions, I had just assumed that Jeanine had simply watched Four’s simulation from this morning and seen the abnormality, not that someone had relayed our conversation from earlier. 

“An initiate came forward to express his concern for your and Tobias’ well-being. I would like to respect his privacy,” Jeanine replies calmly. Turning to Four, she says, “Tobias, you may leave now. Thank you for your assistance.”

I feel a heavy sense of dread as Four leaves. For the first time in three years, I walk over to the simulation chair and sit down. I inject myself with the serum and wait for it to take me under. 

Just like with Four, my least intense fear shows up this time. I feel the spiders crawling over me as I am strapped to some kind of table, unable to move. Normally, I would simply imagine that the straps holding down my limbs were made of something soft, and simply pull on them to make them snap off. But I can’t do that this time. I feel my heart rate rise higher and higher as the spiders continue to crawl over my body, getting larger and larger.   
Finally, I realize that the only way out of this without revealing my awareness is to calm down. I must get my heart rate as close to the resting rate as possible. I try to concentrate on things that make me happy, that calm me. Immediately, Four’s face snaps into my mind. I imagine that we are sitting together somewhere quiet, not speaking, just being. I can feel my heart rate coming down. When I open my eyes, the spiders barely affect me, and the simulation fades. 

As I open my eyes for real, Jeanine says, “Hmmm. I didn’t see anything unusual. In fact, I have seen people conquer the same fear in very similar ways. It seems that it must have simply been an error for you as well.”

I just nod. 

“Although, I can’t imagine why it would only have been an issue for you, out of all of the people in your initiation class through now,” she says pointedly.

“I was only able to change things once, just like Four was,” I lie, hoping that it will convincing enough to the smartest woman in the city. 

“I see,” she says. “Well, we will look a little further into this, but I am increasingly concluding that there may be some kind of dosage or simulation code error. Thank you for your cooperation, Amar. If you would please show us out,” she says, standing.

“Of course,” I reply. 

As I walk Jeanine and her assistant down to the entrance to the compound, I wonder if all of that was enough to convince them. The Erudite never willingly leave a puzzle unsolved. I am not a religious man, but I find myself praying to some deity that Four and I will be okay. He may not want me the way I want him, but I will always protect him.


	4. Initiation, Part 4

The next few days pass by in a bit of a blur. I haven’t been sleeping much. And when I do, I wake up in a cold sweat because of the nightmares I keep having. Spending all day watching the initiates struggle with their fears is hard enough, but now I can’t stop worrying about how Four and I are in danger and its all my fault. I keep imagining terrible things happening to us, and I still can’t really figure out why. What is so dangerous about simulation awareness, anyway? But I know the answer to that, even if I don’t like it. Nonconformity is not tolerated in the city. People who show signs of being different, even in seemingly random ways, always seem to die. Even just pointing that out could get me killed. I should have known better than to speak about this simulation awareness out in the open.

The simulations haven’t really gotten any easier for Four. Unlike the other initiates, the fears in his simulations seem to co-occur, most likely because he has so few of them. He still gets out very quickly, even now that he can’t manipulate them, but he is left shaken after. I wish that I could provide more comfort to him than a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile, but I can’t. I’m trying like hell to get over him so that I can stop feeling this pain. I do want him in my life, though. I feel a connection to Four that I haven’t ever felt for anyone else. I know that I saw understanding in his eyes when I told him about my grandparents that night we played Dare. He understands the darkness inside of me and doesn’t judge me for it or tell me that I need to let it go like everyone else does.

One night I see him sitting alone by the chasm as I’m walking back from dinner. I decide to go over there and see if he’s okay. I also want to talk to him about everything that’s been happening. The chasm is a good place to talk because the rushing water drowns out pretty much every other sound. And there aren’t a lot of other people here tonight.

“Hey,” I say when I’m within earshot. “Mind if I sit here?”

He startles a bit, then turns to look at me. “Sure,” he says, gesturing to the spot next him.

As I sit, I say, “So what’s up with you?”

“Not much,” he says. “I just thought this would be a good place to think.”

“It really is,” I say musingly. “So, what are you thinking about?” I ask, elbowing him lightly.

“Just about the simulations, and all the stuff with Jeanine,” he says, sighing.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about all of that stuff too,” I say.

 “I tried to listen in while you were under the simulation, but the door was closed.”

Understanding why he said this, I reply, “Everything went okay. I didn’t show any signs of awareness. They appeared to let it go, but I can’t be sure.” Four nods.

“That’s good,” he says, relieved. “After I left the simulation room, I realized that it must have been Eric who told Jeanine about my result,” he says, somewhat abruptly.

 “You think so?” I say, surprised.

“Yeah. When I was walking back to the dorms that day, I heard footsteps going the other direction, as if someone was eavesdropping. And Eric is the only Erudite-Dauntless transfer this year, so he’s the one most likely to be on speaking terms with Jeanine Matthews,” Four explains.

“You think he’s still loyal to Erudite?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Yeah, I guess. He’s always seemed a bit suspicious to me,” I say. “But is there really anything we can do about it? I mean, we don’t have any proof, and anything we could say about it would just fall back on us.”

“You’re right,” he sighs, sounding a little frustrated. “I’m just saying all this because we need to be careful from now on. I just wish I knew what all of this is really about.”

“Me too,” I say.

I pause for a beat, and look at him intently before saying, “Look, Four, I’m really sorry about all of this.”

He seems surprised. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

“I got both of us into this mess when I asked you about the simulation. I shouldn’t have said anything. And now you’re in danger.”

“No, Amar, its good that you told me. Otherwise, I would have kept on changing the simulations until someone noticed, and I’d have been in the same situation. You couldn’t have known that this would happen. And it seems that the worst of it has passed now, anyways. I’m just glad that neither of us had to go through it alone,” he says earnestly.

This boy never ceases to surprise me. “I guess you’re right,” I say. “It’s just a shitty situation all around, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. After that we fall into a somewhat comfortable silence. Four seems to be contemplating something. He really does spend a lot of time in his own head.

“Can I ask you something?” he says after a moment.

“Yeah,” I nod, grateful that he’s starting to open up to me.

“When you asked me to play Dare, you said that you were worried that I was about to snap or something. What did you mean by that?”

“I just meant that you were wound too tight. Working too hard, I mean. Sometimes you just need to relax and hang out with people, you know?” I know that he’s asking this because he’s worried and insecure. So, after a moment, I add, “I’ve seen too many people get swallowed into the darkness that exists in this faction. I didn’t want you to be one of those people.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he seems confused. I mentally kick myself. Scrambling to defend this statement, I say, “I just mean that you belong here. Not many former Stiffs would.” After a moment, I add, “And I don’t pity you. You don’t need anyone’s pity. You went through so much, and you survived. You have a lot to be proud of.”

“No, I don’t,” he says, almost to himself.

“What makes you say that?”

“I mean, I know that having four fears is impressive and all, but I can’t overcome my fears. And now, they literally define me. For sixteen years I just let my father hit me. I didn’t fight back. And even though I got an Abnegation result, I ran away from the place that I was destined to be out of fear. And now, the very thought of my father makes me panic. I’m a coward.”

That statement fills me with anger. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again,” I say, my teeth clenched. God, his insecurity is so frustrating sometimes.

He jumps, startled by my sudden anger. “You deal with your fears far better than anyone I’ve ever met, including myself. And how would you have defended yourself against your father? To me, it seems like things would have been worse for you if you had fought back. No one in Abnegation ever did anything for you. You don’t owe them anything. You do belong here. You have everything that it takes to be Dauntless, never mind your Abnegation result,” I say forcefully.

I can tell that he completely disagrees with all of that, which is frustrating, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he says defensively, “I still don’t understand why you care,” he says. “Isn’t your job just to train me?”

“It is. But after I saw your fear landscape, I realized that we have too much in common for me to simply ignore you,” I say. “I want to get to know you better, and I want you to know me. I realized that you needed help in order to find happiness, and I’ve struggled with that for a long time too.”

He doesn’t seem to know how to respond to this. I scrub my hand over my face.

“I just mean that this place can get really dark sometimes. For people that already have that darkness because of things that have happened, life here can be really hard. And I don’t want that life for myself or for anyone else. Having people in your corner who understand that is really important,” I explain.

Four seems to understand that. “I guess I get what you mean. I mean, Zeke and Shauna are great, but I feel like I can’t tell them a lot of things because they probably wouldn’t understand. I thought it was just because I just met them, and I’m not used to having to having people to talk to. But I don’t feel like that with you,” he says, smiling at me a little. I don’t like that he feels so lonely, but I feel elated that he feels comfortable around me.

“I’m glad you feel like you can talk to me,” I say, voicing my thoughts. “You can come to me with anything, at any time.”

Four smiles at me. “You can talk to me too, you know. Though I’m not sure how much help I’d be.”

At that, I glare at him playfully and nudge him in the arm lightly. We sit in comfortable silence for a while longer.

…

The next few days of initiation go by as expected. We continue with the simulations as normal, and no news comes from Erudite. I’m choosing to take that as a good sign. Otherwise, I might go crazy.

Suddenly, Eric comes out of the simulation with a gasp, startling me out of my thoughts. He’s shaking a little bit. I have no sympathy for him. I swiftly and emotionlessly disconnect him from the wires and check his stats on the monitor. “Twelve minutes this time. You can go back to the dorms now,” I say coldly.

He glares at me a little bit, as if it’s my fault that he’s still painfully average as far as this stage of initiation is concerned. I look at him pointedly, and he leaves. Finally. Ever since my conversation with Four by the chasm, my patience with Eric is thinner than ever. If he really is Jeanine Matthew’s pawn, then the situation in the city is even worse than I thought. I have no idea what to do about any of this, though. For now, I’ll just have to keep doing my job and living life as normal.

I’m happy that all of the initiates are doing pretty well, and Leadership hasn’t been giving me any problems so far, not counting the whole mess with the so-called “evaluation”. 

…

I sit with Lauren and Gus that night at dinner, as usual. I’m not really paying any attention to what they’re saying, too lost in my own thoughts. I can’t help but look over at Four, and think about how my feelings for him are only growing, despite my best efforts. It’s just so easy to talk to him. He’s something different, and it’s a good thing. The conversation we had at the chasm the other day has made me feel better, but I also feel a little guilty about that. I really don’t want to distance myself from him, though. I think that being friends would be really good for both of us.

“Amar,” Lauren says from beside me, snapping her fingers.

“Huh?” I say, snapping out of my daze.

“What’s up with you?” she asks. “You haven’t been yourself lately. I’m worried about you.”

I wish that I could tell her even a fraction of what’s wrong, but I can’t. Putting on a smile, I say, “I’m fine, just a bit tired is all. Simulations, you know.”

“Do you want me to fill in tomorrow? I could at least do the sims for my initiates,” she offers.

“No, that’s alright. You’re doing stage three this year, so it’s only fair that I finish out with stage two.”

“Okay, but I’m not completely convinced that that’s the only thing that’s wrong with you. You’ve been distant, acting almost as emotionally drained as the initiates.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I snap, not wanting to talk about this anymore. “Will you just please let it go?”

“Dude, she’s just trying to help,” Gabe says from beside me. Leaning in closer, he says, “Is this about that thing that happened with the Erudite earlier this week?”

“I told you that that was nothing.”

“Well, if it was nothing then what’s bothering you? You haven’t dazed out like this since your grandparents died,” Gabe says.

“Fine,” I say, realizing that they’re not going to let this go. “It’s just a guy thing. You know, the usual.” Telling them part of the truth feels better than not telling them anything. I can’t tell them that I’m in fact falling for an initiate (who is most likely straight), or that said initiate and I will probably be killed by leadership in the near future because of something that we don’t fully understand and certainly can’t control, but I can let them know that I like someone, and that things are complicated.

“A guy thing? Well why didn’t you just say so?” Gabe asks. He’s always been really interested in my love life ever since we broke up. He feels guilty for not being able to return my feelings, even though I’ve told him a million times that I was never in love with him, and that I’m fine with us being friends.

“Because it’s never going to happen and I need to just get over it,” I say, a little forcefully, more for my own benefit than anything. I don’t have to explain further. Lauren and Gus know that when I say ‘it’s never going to happen’ I mean that I’ve gone and caught feelings for a straight guy, or for someone who’s already taken. 

“Well, who is it?” Lauren asks.

“I can’t tell you that,” I say, shutting her down. I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Maybe after initiation, when liking one of my initiates wouldn’t be _quite_ as inappropriate.

“Alright,” Lauren sighs, understanding that I’m not going to give up any more information. It’s not often that I shut people down like that, after all. “Just be careful, Amar. I don’t like to see you get hurt.”

“You know I will,” I say, smiling, grateful that she’s letting this go for now. Gabe doesn’t look too convinced, but he doesn’t say anything. “Look, I have some things to get ready for tomorrow. I’ll see you guys at breakfast,” I say, getting up to leave. I really don’t have anything to do, it’s just really hard to sit here and keep secrets from my friends. It sucks that things have to be this way.

 

 

 

 


End file.
